


Touched

by Aurae



Series: Star Wars Rare Pairs Collection (NC-17) [33]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Body Worship, Falling In Love, First Time Blow Jobs, Frottage, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Porn with Feelings, Sad and Sweet, Smut 4 Smut 2020, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurae/pseuds/Aurae
Summary: He was not meant for love. That’s what he’d always believed.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker/Lor San Tekka
Series: Star Wars Rare Pairs Collection (NC-17) [33]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/670481
Comments: 14
Kudos: 17
Collections: Luke Deserves All The Blowjobs, Smut 4 Smut 2020





	Touched

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rubynye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/gifts).



He was not meant for love. That’s what he’d always believed.

Lor San Tekka believes in lots of things. He believes in the Force, and he believes in the Jedi. As a young boy, he’d believed in the Jedi, and he’d believed in the Jedi Order’s noble fight against galactic tyranny and chaos. As a man in his prime, he hadn’t stopped believing in the Jedi, not ever, and he’d held firm to the belief that, one day, the Empire would fall, broken beneath the unbearable weight of its own evil, and the Jedi Order would be reborn anew from its ashes.

Ultimately, Lor’s faith was vindicated. The Empire fell; the Jedi Order was reborn. And Lor considers himself fortunate, most fortunate indeed, to have lived long enough to see it all with his own eyes. To touch it—to touch _him_ —with his own reverent hands.

“You… You’re…” Lor whispers. This is a gift he’s being given, he knows; Luke has conditioned it on nothing. Lor can hardly speak, not even to express his eternal, undying gratitude. “I-I don’t… I’ve never…”

“It’s all right. I’m here,” Luke says. His face is clear, untroubled. He is selfless and self-abnegating, his love uncompromising in reciprocity, and he already knows everything Lor feels. Because of course he does.

Luke Skywalker is more powerful, more beautiful, more _perfect_ , than Lor ever could have imagined. The Force shines within him like the dazzling light of twin suns, and Lor is drawn to that light like a flickermoth to a flametorch. His lack of personal experience matters not. He would worship it. He would worship _him_.

And Luke? _Luke is going to let him do it._

He cups Luke’s face between his palms, pulls him close. He brushes ardent lips over his forehead, his closed eyes, honeyed lashes fluttering, his nose, his lips, plush and full, his chin with its rakish cleft. He makes Lor ache with want—so soft and tender and yielding! Luke turns his head slightly so that he can nip at Lor’s left thumb with his straight white teeth, to lick at the tip with a smooth pink tongue. Lor shudders in response, a burst of heat racing down his spine and collecting in his loins. Ah, he wants, he wants!

He sinks to his knees slowly, running his hands down Luke’s neck and shoulders and chest and belly as he goes, savoring the interplay of skin and muscle and bone. He has never done this before, but he has never been so eager for anything in his life, and he wants to remember everything. _Everything._ The jut of the hipbones. The silky inner thighs. The genitals nestling in their coarse tangle of hair…

Lor kisses the crinkled tip of foreskin. Luke sighs sweetly. Encouraged, he grasps Luke’s hips, bracing himself as he dives in deeper, mouthing the balls, first one, then the other, rolling them about in their loose scrotum as they begin to lift and tighten. He mouths the penis too, kissing and massaging the shaft with his lips until it is stiff and standing, foreskin fully retracted from the glans. A glistening bead of fluid hangs from the tip, and Lor licks it away, moaning at the pungent-salt taste, his own erection dripping in response, ignored and untouched, between his legs.

He swallows Luke down, then, opening his throat and hollowing his cheeks until he can take him no further and his lips and nose are crushed against Luke’s pubis. Luke freezes, buttocks flexing, tense with the effort it takes not to thrust. So considerate—he would never willingly cause his partner discomfort. Lor hums happily, hungrily, and begins bobbing his head back and forth, back and forth. He is persistent, and he will labor tirelessly. This is love; this is everything he wants. Back and forth, back and forth. He will make Luke come in his mouth, and then he will drink, yes, he will drink—

“Stop,” Luke says. He’s a bit breathless, Lor notes, pleased. “Not like this. Not the first time. The first time should be together.”

Using either the Force or merely the inexorable force of his will, Luke pulls Lor back up onto his feet, kisses him, and draws him back down onto the ground, infinitely tender. Their limbs tangle, and they embrace, Lor on top and Luke below.

“Luke…?” Lor begins. “I—”

“Shhh. I’m here. Don’t talk. Just feel.”

Their erections are trapped between their bodies. Lor is already moving, he realizes belatedly, sliding himself against Luke. Just instinct. Enthusiasm. Luke arches his back, encouraging the contact, nuzzling Lor’s cheek as they find their rhythm and undulate together. How long do they last? A mere minute? Or an eternity? Lor doesn’t know. Lor knows only that he loves Luke, loves him so very, very much. And he’s so exquisitely beautiful, so giving! Ah, how Lor wishes he were younger! Luke doesn’t deserve an old man like him, old yet wholly inexperienced, clumsy, silly, a novice when it comes to the erotic arts of making love.

Fortunately, Luke doesn’t seem to care. He climaxes with a thin, high-pitched cry and a mess of semen between them that Lor can thrust into, slick and warm, until he is burying his face in Luke’s shoulder, tears of joy seeping from the corners of his eyes as his body goes taut, his hips stutter, and he lets go and comes as well.

They hold hands afterwards, and Lor brings Luke’s wrist to his lips, kissing the place where once-burnt flesh meets metal. He is ardent, worshipful. The amputation cut was clean, but the scar is there, if one knows what to look for. Lor feels Luke tremble, so vulnerable, so sensitive in this spot and this spot alone, the sensation halfway between pleasure and pain. Even when old injuries can be healed, sometimes the past never truly leaves.

***

_Sometimes the past never truly leaves._

The dreams don’t wake him, not anymore. Not even the nocturnal emissions which invariably accompany them.

They’d made love often over the years, joyous and giving, Lor’s love reaffirmed and rewarded each time the Force saw fit to reunite them somewhere out in the far-flung reaches of the galaxy. It was only the last time Luke had ever refused him. That last time, Luke had required something of him instead.

“Keep it safe for me,” Luke had said. And: “I was never here.”

Huddled beneath his soiled blankets during one of Jakku’s cold desert nights, Lor clutches Luke’s final parting gift to his breast and wishes the reality could have been different. If he hadn’t been meant for love, he would never have had Luke. But if he hadn’t had Luke, now this would not be his burden to bear.

END

**Author's Note:**

> Posted to the exchange on March 7, 2020.


End file.
